


Weigh Me Down

by dreamingofsiha



Series: Ghosts [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Dark, Depression, Drug Use, Explicit Language, F/M, Multi, Post Destroy Ending, post reaper war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:39:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3304406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingofsiha/pseuds/dreamingofsiha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It had been four hundred and sixteen days since Commander Jane Shepard had pulled her lips away from his mouth and ran towards the beam of light that took her away from him permanently. Victus and Hackett had told him that the pain would ease in time, but it hadn't. In fact, it felt like the hole in his soul was growing larger with every day, and it was slowly threatening to swallow him whole. His appetite had dwindled until he only ate the bare minimum that he needed to stay upright, and his sleeping patterns were just as pathetic. Everyone around him noticed. Garrus knew that everyone had noticed. No one dared to say anything.</i>
</p><p>In which Shepard is believed to be dead, but that isn't entirely the case.</p><p>Tags and rating may change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Give me a drug, and I'll take it.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UEBIsUsvheA. Chapter titles are taken from it's lyrics.

It had been four hundred and sixteen days since Commander Jane Shepard had pulled her lips away from his mouth and ran towards the beam of light that took her away from him permanently. Victus and Hackett had told him that the pain would ease in time, but it hadn't. In fact, it felt like the hole in his soul was growing larger with every day, and it was slowly threatening to swallow him whole. His appetite had dwindled until he only ate the bare minimum that he needed to stay upright, and his sleeping patterns were just as pathetic. Everyone around him noticed. Garrus knew that everyone had noticed. No one dared to say anything.

“General Vakarian, sir?” Garrus straightened at the terminal that used to be Traynor's before she was giving free reign of the former war room, and shifted his tired eyes to focus on the Alliance soldier next to him.

“What is it?” Garrus asked, his voice flat and devoid of life. He didn't bother trying any more; it wasn't like anyone was going to give him a stern talking to about his attitude when he gave the impression he could snap their necks with just a glance.

“We're not going to make it to the fuel depot in the Silean Nebula, sir. We're going to have to stop in to the Athena Nebula.” The soldier (Lt. J Harding, read his name patch – Garrus vaguely recognised him as one of Traynor's underlings) shifted slightly, anxious under Garrus' piercing gaze. The tall turian exhaled deeply. He knew they shouldn't have responded to that quarian distress call. What in the spirits' names were the suited aliens doing on Aequitas anyway? Garrus huffed again. He didn't particularly care what they were doing, if he was to be totally honest. He just wanted them off the Normandy so that he didn't have to keep spraying himself with decontamination mist every ten minutes to stop the quarians from complaining about the 'unclean air' (which Garrus found very insulting; Shepard always made sure that the Normandy was kept in pristine condition). Garrus winced. It was still impossible for his brain to switch to past tense when it came to her.

“Fine. Have Joker set a course.” Garrus turned back to his terminal to continue waiting for a response from Hackett. Why was it taking so long? Hackett was only... Garrus clenched his fists at his sides. Hackett was only one deck up, and no doubt sitting at Shep- at his terminal. Garrus frowned as a brief image of crimson hair across impossibly soft porcelain skin flitted through his mind.

The human soldier didn't move.

“Was there something else?” Garrus asked; a little snappier than he had meant to. He knew that he scared the living shit out of the humans on board. Well, the humans that didn't know him, anyway. James, Traynor and Joker didn't bother treading on eggshells around him like everyone else seemed to. Garrus liked that; it made him feel like things were almost normal again, like he could just imagine that Shepard had gone to help Aria on Omega again, and she'd be back any minute.

“Yes, sir. There's only one active fuel depot in the Athena Nebula currently, sir.” Garrus stared blankly at the bland looking man beside him. Harding cleared his throat and continued.

“It's the fuel depot run by Aria T'Loak, sir.” Garrus sighed, and Harding took a small step back. Aria. Everything always seemed to somehow involve fucking _Aria_.

“So? What's the problem? Aria's got no issue with anyone on board the Normandy.” Garrus leant back on his left leg and folded his arms across his carapace. He had previously heard rumours of Aria commandeering an abandoned fuel station, and it didn't surprise him to find that it was true. With Omega being destroyed, it was only a matter of time before the intimidating asari lay claim to some other part of the universe.

“I, uh. Take a look at this, sir. It's a list of no fly zones dictated to us by both Alliance and Turian command.” Harding awkwardly shoved a data-pad towards Garrus, which he took and glanced over the words.

 **AREAS TO AVOID/TAKE EXTREME CAUTION APPROACHING**  
 **Krogan DMZ – Tuchanka** (flight must be approved by Krogan high command prior to system entry. Please confer with your ship's comms specialist to arrange approval)  
 **Serpent Nebula** – ONLY MILITARY AND SALVAGE OPERATIONS ALLOWED. MUST BE APPROVED BY ALL SPECIES' HIGH COMMAND. Large debris field still present. Unsafe for inexperienced navigators.  
 **Athena Nebula** – Fuel Depot #1 (check with comms specialist for co-ordinates) – Proceed with extreme caution. All ships required to identify themselves before coming within a five kilometre radius. Docking approval not guaranteed.  
 **ANYONE IGNORING THESE CAUTIONS WILL BE PUNISHED IN ACCORDANCE WITH THEIR NATIVE LAWS.**

Garrus passed the data-pad back to Harding, who fumbled with it before regaining his grip on it. Garrus had always thought humans had too many fingers until Shepard showed him that they had just the right amount. That _she_ had just the right amount.

“Inform Hackett that we need to re-route. Tell him exactly what you just told me. I'm not getting a response fr-”

“Sorry to interrupt sir, but I've already informed him. He sai-”

“Vakarian, I received your message. Lieutenant Harding, I also received yours. I've made the appropriate arrangements for us to dock at the fuel depot owned by Miss T'Loak.” Hackett said once he had stepped out of the elevator and walked towards the turian and the young Lieutenant.

“Understood, sir.” Harding gave the Admiral a quick salute, then returned to the refurbished war room that now served as the Normandy's communication and information hub. Hackett moved to Garrus' side.

“A moment?” Hackett asked as he motioned towards the elevator with his hand. Garrus nodded, and followed the older man into the elevator. Garrus averted his eyes as Hackett pressed the button to take them to the loft. His stomach felt like it was being crushed by the weight of a hundred bricks as the elevator jerked into motion, taking him slowly up to the room that felt more like a grave than a luxurious cabin.

“Once Harding informed me of the Normandy's fuel situation, I took it upon myself to reach out to Miss T'Loak. From what I've gathered, she appreciates a straight up approach.” Hackett said as he plucked a small piece of lint from his shoulder.

“That she does.” Garrus agreed.

“I've seen to it to meet with her when we arrive. I figure it couldn't hurt to build a rapport with her in person. What's left of Alliance High Command and the Turian hierarchy could use an ally like T'Loak.” Garrus watched as Hackett's gaze slipped to his side for a moment so brief that Garrus almost missed it. He knew immediately that something was being kept from him. The Alliance Admiral had always made him feel uneasy, and spending the last four hundred and one days with him had done nothing to soothe that discomfort.

“A good plan. I should come along, Aria and I have met numerous times.” Garrus may have been exaggerating to put heat on Hackett; by met, he meant _'stood awkwardly behind Shepard whilst she hit back numerous alcoholic beverages with the centuries old asari'_. Hackett picked up his game; not even hesitating before speaking.

“That won't be necessary. I'm confident that things will go according to plan with just my presence.” Hackett waved off the suggestion as the elevator doors opened. Garrus held his breath as he watched Hackett key in the code for Shepard's door that had remained unchanged. 3812. The year they had met, backwards. Shepard had laughed when he had told her that as far as pass codes went, that one was terrible and easily cracked, and that anyone who knew them would be able to figure it out in ten minutes or less.

“Let them try.” Shepard had told him, before pulling him into her arms and running her tongue along his scarred mandible, and that had settled that.

“Understood, sir.” Garrus said; his mouth suddenly feeling dry and his tongue feeling like it weighed a kilogram. He felt the familiar dizziness of anxiety threatening to unsettle his stomach. He'd need to see Chakwas for medication refills soon.

“I'll have EDI inform both of us when we arrive, and we can confer on the CIC deck. Dismissed.” Hackett said as he half turned to look at Garrus. The turian nodded, and jabbed the button for the crew deck before Hackett had a chance to actually open the door to Shepard's former cabin. To their former cabin. His lungs felt tight in his chest as he pictured the spacious room in his head. A sudden wave of anger heated his skin, but he quickly quashed it before it could snake it's way to his talons and make them dig into his palms. It wasn't Hackett's fault. No doubt he had heard the rumours of their inter-species affair, but before they hit Earth, Traynor had told them that Hackett was going to be boarding the Normandy, and all evidence of his existence in Shepard's cabin was moved back into the main battery. It was something that they had done numerous times before when there was a possibility that Hackett or another dignitary might visit Shepard's personal space for private discussions, and they had the process down to an art. It felt like it had taken centuries to arrange his belongings in Shepard's cabin in a way that made it feel like the space was _theirs_. It took significantly less time to remove them.


	2. Watching you sharpen knives.

“You think he's hiding something?” James whispered as he leant past Garrus to reach for a small wrench. The both of them spoke in hushed whispers, despite the fact that EDI would clear any audio recordings that could compromise her friends.

“I'm not sure.” Garrus admitted. He had always had a hard time trusting people, and now that he was on edge? Well, there were only five people on the ship that he completely trusted, and one was standing next to him (the second was flying the Normandy, the third was in the comms room, the fourth was in the med-bay, and the fifth was near him at all times, given that she practically was the ship). Could he have just imagined the way Hackett's eyes seemed to avoid him and the way the pitch of the older man's voice seemed to raise slightly?

“He's hard to read. Never know what he's thinking. Just gives you those loco Admiral Eyes.” James used his pointer and middle finger on his free hand to point from his own eyes to Garrus', then back to his own. Garrus huffed. It was a gesture that Shepard and James used to do to each other as a strange kind of inside joke when they circled around each other during their sparring sessions.

“I hate the Admiral Eyes.” Garrus said. James snorted.

“Yeah, me too. I probably get them more, though. Still being the lowly Lieutenant and all.” James' brow furrowed as all traces of his good mood disappeared, and Garrus frowned along with him.

“You know how I feel about that.” Garrus soothed. Although he had been unsure about Vega at first, they'd quickly found common ground in their need to protect Shepard, and they had built a steady friendship from thereon. The fact that James hadn't been promoted or even commended for his efforts during the war and even after in the recovery efforts was a downright disgrace, and Garrus didn't think that just because the man was his friend. James tilted his chin down and sighed.

“Yeah, man. I know.” The two lapsed into a comfortable silence as Garrus watched James take apart the black Carnifex that used to belong to Shepard. Although it was no longer used, the two of them took turns dismantling and servicing it. They both refused to believe that she truly was gone, and diligently working on it soothed their pain, if only for half an hour.

“You gonna get some rest before we dock?” James asked after a while, even though he knew that Garrus' answer and what he would actually do would be two entirely different things.

“Yeah, yeah I will.” James nodded, but kept his eyes on the pieces of the pistol to avoid showing Garrus that he knew that he was full of shit. It had been obvious to everyone who encountered them that they were deeply in love with each other, and now that she was gone? James didn't think that Garrus would ever recover.

****

Much to Garrus' surprise, he did manage to get some rest. It wasn't very satisfying, however; he dreamt that Hackett was keeping Shepard locked in a cage in a shuttle bay, and would only let her out when he needed someone killed or someone persuaded to do something. As unsettling as it was, Garrus couldn't help but snort at the accuracy. The Alliance had never had any issue using her as a pawn when they were too afraid to get their own hands dirty.

“Garrus, how are you feeling?” EDI's soft voice flowed through the speakers in the ceiling above his bed.

“Fine, EDI, thank you.” Garrus forced himself to sound as convincing as possible. The extended silence between his reply and EDI's told him he had failed.

“Please let me know if you need anything.” EDI offered. Garrus grabbed his blanket, and flung it off his bare legs as he sat up.

“Actually, EDI, there is something you can help me with.”

“Yes?” Came EDI's immediate reply. Ever since the pulse from the Citadel completely wrote off her mobile platform, she had become eager to assist anyone and everyone in whatever they needed. The poor AI was bored. _Join the club_ , Garrus thought.

“Is there anything about Hackett that I should know?” Garrus asked quietly. A pause.

“I do not believe he has divulged all the information that he has, either.” Garrus let out a sigh of relief as EDI confirmed that he hadn't gone completely out to left field with his line of thoughts on the Admiral.

“What've you got?” Garrus asked eagerly.

“Nothing. I do not have access to the cabin's surveillance, comm lines, or terminal data any longer.” Garrus swore under his breath. The fact that the Admiral had banned EDI and any other form of hardware that could be used as surveillance removed from the cabin when he became the CO of the Normandy had always seemed a little dodgy, but Garrus had decided that he would have probably done the same thing in Hackett's position. However, due to Hackett's momentary slip up earlier in the Normandy's cycle, it took on a whole new meaning.

“Thoughts?” Garrus asked as he swung his legs over the side of his bed and slowly stood up. His left knee crunched painfully in protest.

“Lay still and let me help,” Shepard had said when she had first learnt that the joint was giving him pain. She'd dug her palms into the sides of his oddly shaped kneecaps and pressed. It had hurt at first, but the relief that her movements brought the next day were worth that pain times a hundred. She'd often fix him when he was broken, in more ways than one.

“I am unsure. I noticed that he was displaying signs of anxiety in the elevator ride that you accompanied him on earlier.”

“Hmm. So did I. Think it's something to do with Aria?” Garrus questioned as he wandered throughout the room that used to be Liara's to find some clean clothes.

“It is possible.” EDI's voice was contemplative.

“Hmm.” Garrus repeated. If EDI thought someone was suss, they probably were.

“We'll be arriving soon, Garrus.” EDI informed him when he had finished dressing.

****

Garrus stood in the bridge and watched as Hackett, James and another Alliance soldier stepped into the airlock to make their way through the docking station and onto the fuel depot. James glanced over his shoulder, nodding slightly before the airlock door slid shut between them.

“So what's the plan?” Joker asked, a little too loudly for Garrus' liking; EDI might be able to scrub the audio logs, but there were still Alliance soldiers at the terminals around the galaxy map. Garrus turned to the pilot and made his way over to stand next to Joker's chair.

“I'm not entirely sure yet.” Garrus said as he stooped to look out of the window and eye the numerous ships that had gathered at the depot to refuel. Four turian ships, five asari, and three quarian) were spread out around the station. Numerous other unmarked ships (probably mercs, Garrus thought) were also docked around the station's upper arms. Garrus assumed there was just as many out of eyesight around the Normandy, which had docked on the lower arms.

“That sounds promising.” Joker said sarcastically as he leant forward and rummaged around in a crate that was under his console. When he sat back in his chair, he was unwrapping a doughnut. _Shepard loves doughnuts_.

“Hackett, James and Lieutenant Annika Kimla have successfully boarded the station. They are currently going through a security check.” EDI informed them through the speaker in Joker's console. Joker looked up at Garrus expectantly. _Fuck it_.

“EDI, get me a private line to James.” Garrus commanded.

“It's ready.” EDI replied a few seconds later.

“James, it's Garrus. Can you talk?” A hearty cough came through the line. _No_.

“Right. I need you to let EDI know when you can.” A mumbled mhm. Garrus leant his elbow on the back of Joker's chair as he tried to cement a plan in his head. He couldn't just walk onto the station and claim he got lost if he ran into Hackett, especially when Hackett had been so adamant about how unnecessary Garrus' presence was.

“Scars?” Garrus straightened and leant closer to the speaker.

“I'm here.”

“Hackett's taken Kimla with him to meet with Aria. I'm waiting in a reception area.” James reported.

“What's it like in there?” Garrus asked.

“We docked on the south side of the station, then we were met by an asari who took us through a few corridors and up two levels to a reception area, then Hackett and Kimla were led through a door and to what I'm guessing are Aria's personal quarters. There's a window up here overlooking the market.” Garrus tried to visualise the layout in his head. Most fuel stations had a marketplace that sold clothing and supplies that people could visit whilst the fuel shuttles saw to their ships. Some even had bars and rooms to let in case repairs needed to be performed on their ship. _Repairs_. An idea formed in his head as quickly as he could say the word.

“What about salvage and repair stations?” There was silence on James' end, and Garrus pictured the beefy marine pressing his face against the window and scanning the area below.

“Yeah, there's a salvage and repair station. Looks like it's run by quarians, I can see a few of them working on drones. There's a couple angle grinding some sheet metal, too.” Garrus was silent as he thought. He'd spent many hours after the war wondering if he was slowly losing his mind. Now, however, he was certain.

“What're you thinking, Vakarian?” James' low voice asked.

“I'm thinking we give those quarians and their drones something to do.”


	3. You give me hell, but I'll make it.

The look that Joker gave him when he explained his plan would've made him laugh once. Now, his mouth didn't even move; his jaw set in his conviction.

“You're joking, right?” Joker said as he squinted up at Garrus.

“I can find out which area of the ship would be safest to damage.” EDI volunteered. Joker looked wide eyed at his console's speaker.

“Not you too!”

“Do it, EDI.” Garrus and EDI both ignored Joker's protests.

“Of all the shit Shepard pulled, now you're going to-” Joker's mouth snapped shut immediately. Garrus gave him a steady stare until he turned to face his console.

“Why?” Joker asked quietly.

“There's something on that station that Hackett doesn't want me to know about. I can just.. I can _feel_ it.” Garrus admitted. He had been so convinced that Hackett was fooling him somehow, but now that he said his feelings out loud, he knew he just sounded paranoid. Joker sighed.

“If you say so. Just... just don't screw her up too badly, alright? We've been through a lot together.” Joker gave the side of the console a gentle pat. Garrus nodded.

“I've accessed the salvage and repair team's inventory. Considering the materials that they have in stock, damage to the shuttle bay's exterior would be most appropriate.” EDI stated.

“Appropriate? None of this is appropriate.” Joker mumbled. He was ignored again.

“The shuttle bay is also currently vacant, due to James' and Annika's departure.” EDI added. Garrus' eyes narrowed in thought.

“It's gotta look convincing, like it wasn't staged.” Joker said, resigned to the fact that yes, his AI girlfriend and his dead best friend's boyfriend were plotting to deliberately damage the Normandy.

“I believe I can take control of a fuel ship. They are run remotely, and do not have any organics inside them that could be injured. I could steer it into the shuttle bay's exterior plating, and run a virus through the fuel shuttle's programming to make it seem like it malfunctioned on it's own.” EDI sounded oddly excited.

“Ah, shit. We've all lost it.” Joker said as he pulled the brim of his cap further down over his face.

“Excellent. That way, Hackett will have no choice but to stay on the Normandy until the repairs are finished and I'll be able to leave without fear of running into him when he retires for the night cycle.” Garrus grinned a needle sharp grin for the first time in months.

“Excellent, let's just commit some criminal offences because the turian's paranoid.” Joker said sarcastically.

“ _Jeff_.” EDI cautioned. Joker held up his palms and shook his head.

“Fine. If the brass finds out what really happened, though, I was never involved.” Joker sighed.

“Of course.” Garrus agreed.

“EDI, get James on the line again. I gotta run it by him.”

****

When they got back into contact with James, he was following Hackett back to the Normandy and couldn't talk out loud. He did, however, make a strangled choking sound when Garrus gave him the short version of the plan, which no doubt would've earnt him an odd look from Hackett and/or Kimla. When the three Alliance members returned, James turned left to meet Garrus in the cockpit as Kimla and Hackett returned to their stations. Hackett gave James and Garrus an unreadable look across the CIC deck before the elevator doors shut.

“Are you fucking _loco?_ ” James whispered angrily.

“Yes.” Joker interjected.

“You told me that you think he's untrustworthy too!” Garrus shot back.

“Hey! Those weren't my exact words! I just said he had _Loco Admiral Eyes!_ ” James protested as he repeated his hand gesture for the Loco Admiral Eyes. Garrus folded his arms and huffed in irritation.

“There's something, Vega. I _know_ there's something.” James' eyes softened as Garrus spoke. He knew that Garrus was holding onto a sliver of hope that Shepard was still alive; after all, she had been listed as MIA by the Alliance and her body had never actually been found, but James had seen the burnt out wreck of the Citadel. Not even Shepard could have survived that destruction. Still, he wasn't going to be the one to quash Garrus' hopes. It was all the turian had left.

“Scars...” James began, but he trailled off and ran a hand over the shaved sides of his head.

“Please, Vega. I know there's something.” Garrus said with such conviction that all James could bear to do was give in.

“What do you need me to do?”

****

To keep the shuttle bay empty, James had had to bribe Kimla with alcohol and credits to play poker with him in the lounge (which wasn't too hard, considering that she spent most of her time in the shuttle bay gazing dreamily in his direction). Garrus had returned to his quarters, and sat patiently on his bed as he waited for EDI to follow through with her plan.

“Assuming direct control.” EDI said. Garrus frowned.

“Bad joke, EDI.”

“Oh. I am deeply sorry for my miscalculation, Garrus.” EDI amended with a voice full of genuine apology. Garrus waved his hand in the air to let her know it was alright. It would have been funny; if Shepard was _there_ to hear it.

“I've sent the virus through the ship's system to cover my program. I'm two hundred metres out from the Normandy.” EDI reported. Garrus held his breath.

“One hundred metres.” Garrus rose to his feet.

“Fifty metres. Are you still certain?” EDI asked, just to make sure.

“Yes.” Garrus hesitated slightly before answering. The fact that all he had was a gut instinct made him feel ashamed of his actions, but the shame disappeared when he remembered that his gut instinct had always been correct.

“Very well. Prepare for impact.” Garrus didn't even have time to steady himself against a piece of furniture before the Normandy shook violently as a deafening boom rattled his room's contents. He fell to the floor in a clumsy heap, and he growled as his left knee was the first part of him to hit the hard metal floor beneath.

“All crewmembers report to the CIC deck, immediately!” Hackett's voice boomed over the ships' intercom.

****

It took every fibre of Garrus' being to stop himself from grinning when Hackett had sighed and informed the crew that the ship would be stationary until the hole in the shuttle bay was repaired. However, he couldn't contain a small mandible wiggle when Hackett estimated that the repairs would take at least twenty five hours to repair.

“All crew members are to remain on the ship. Please report to either myself or General Vakarian if our guidance is required. All repairs have been organised by Engineer Adams and EDI. Please do not go into the shuttle bay or hinder any repair attempts. As for the quarians, they will be leaving as soon as they are ready and boarding a quarian cargo ship which will take them back to Rannoch. Dismissed.” Hackett said before stepping off the galazy map's platform and stepping back into the elevator. An excited chatter erupted amongst the crowd that had gathered around the powered down galaxy map as they slowly drifted back to their positions throughout the ship. Garrus turned to James, who snorted in amusement at the events that had transpired.

“Loco. Fucking _loco_ , Scars.”


	4. Chapter 4

The wait for EDI to tell him he was clear to sneak off the ship was agonising. An itch seemed to spread out under his skin, and Garrus didn't think anything short of tearing off his skin would satisfy it. He settled for pulling up his sleeve and scratching at his plated skin. It seemed to work for a minute, until he felt an itch on his other arm.

“Garrus?” EDI whispered, even though he was the only one in his soundproofed room. He stood up from the chair at his terminal, where he had been staring at his reflection in the blank screen and trying not to go insane from the extended anticipation.

“Yes?” He replied eagerly.

“Hackett has fallen asleep.” Garrus moved from the desk to his small weapons locker, and clipped his M-5 Phalanx to his side.

“How long does he usually sleep for?” Garrus asked as he smoothed his fingers down his armoured tunic. If the fuel station was anything like Omega, he'd have to be prepared for anything.

“That depends.” EDI said, her smooth voice sly and holding an invisible smile.

“On?”

“Whether he has had a nightcap.” Nightcap. Garrus remembered that human word.

“Stay and have a nightcap with me. Please?” Shepard had asked as her thin fingers gently clasped around his wrist when he had turned to leave her cabin after going over some dossiers that the Illusive Man had sent to Shepard. His heart had beat against the inside of his chest like a hammer as he had nodded and let her pull him back down onto the couch next to her. He had sat, and she had smiled at him, and that was the exact moment he realised that he was in love with her, and he had been for longer than he would ever admit to anyone.

“And has he?”

“Yes. I estimate six hours of uninterrupted sleep. I believe he may need to urinate after that time.” EDI replied.

“And if he tries to leave his cabin?” Garrus asked as he bent down to tighten the laces on his steel cap boots.

“Do not worry, Garrus. I will inform you immediately, and provide a distraction until you return.” Garrus nodded.

“I appreciate it, EDI. Thank you.”

“It is my pleasure.” The AI's voice was warm and genuine, and Garrus briefly thought that he missed seeing her mobile platform; having her around was almost as comforting as having Shepard around. _Almost_ , but not quite.

“James is requesting entry into your room.” EDI informed him. Garrus sighed, and waved his approval. James entered quickly; glancing a not very inconspicuous glance behind him as he did so. Subtlety had certainly never been the marine's strong point.

“What are you doing here?” Garrus said after the door had closed behind James.

“Come on, Scars. I ain't gonna miss out on a chance to have the most fun I've had in the last year.” James held his arms out and cocked an eyebrow as if to say did you really need to ask? Garrus tutted and blinked slowly – the equivalent of a human eye roll.

“Well, I'm going now. You ready?” Garrus asked as he stood up. James unzipped his thick hoodie, and held one side out to proudly reveal a small pistol and a switch-blade.

“Well alright then.” Garrus said as he moved towards the door.

“Wait!” EDI's voice stopped the two men.

“What?” They asked in unison, both of them tilting their faces up to the ceiling.

“There are two people currently working in the CIC deck. Give me a moment to reassign them to the comms room so that you will not be detected.” Garrus huffed and leant against the bulkhead beside the door, and James mirrored his movements on the opposite side.

“Kinda fucked up how you're a general and you can't even take a little shore leave.” James joked. The human lieutenant was well aware of the reigns that Hackett had put on everyone on board; his by the book demeanour was a far cry from Shepard's _I'm going to trust all of you to know what you're doing but if you fuck up, then I'll get strict_ leadership strategy.

“If Shepard was here, she wouldn't...” James trailed off.

“She would've ordered everyone off the ship and made them take shore leave.” Garrus finished as he let a small grin pull at his mouth. James laughed in relief that he hadn't upset his turian friend with his reminiscing.

“Yeah. And she would've been right behind us waving a bottle of whatever it was she felt like drinking that night.” James grinned and shook his head as he recounted fond memories of previous shore leaves.

“The deck is clear. I suggest you leave immediately.” EDI informed them. They left Garrus' room and made for the elevator; thankful that the crew members had retired to bed or were in the lounge, drinking and playing poker until the need for sleep would win out and they'd stumble into their cots.

“Makes you feel like a naughty teenager again, no?” James said with a nervous grin as they strode across the CIC deck towards the airlock. Garrus chuckled.

“I was _never_ a naughty teenager.” James snorted.

“Yeah, right.” They cleared the airlocks and made their way through the docking tunnel. The small space caused their heavy boots to echo menacingly, and Garrus was thankful that it drowned out his heavy breathing. His stomach was clenching in knots of nerves, and he felt light-headed.

“You alright?” James asked as he gave the apprehensive turian a sideways glance. Garrus stopped abruptly, and James did too.

“What if I... I don't know what I'm thinking any more here, Vega.” Garrus ran a gloved talon across his scalp and down his fringe. James gave him a sympathetic look.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don't know what you're thinking either.” James teased, and Garrus huffed and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.

“Come on, there's only one way to find out if Hackett's dodgy as we think he is.” James tilted his head towards the large metal door twenty metres in front of them, and waited for Garrus to respond. The turian nodded, and they resumed their journey onto the fuel station.

They passed the door, and immediately came out into a large rectangular room, that had two lifts to their left, and two doors to their right. A huge, tacky, fake plant took up the whole wall directly in front of them. Garrus looked to James for guidance.

“Gentlemen, may I assist you?” James and Garrus both turned their gazes forward to the source of the voice. A lilac skinned asari with bright pink markings was giving them a welcoming smile as she waited in front of them. James gave Garrus a confused look that silently said _where the hell did she come from?_

“Yes, actually, you can, thank you. I'd like to see Aria, please.” Garrus said, a whole lot more confidently than he felt. The asari's marked brows raised slightly.

“Do you have an appointment, Mr...?”

“Vakarian. And this is my Alliance associate, Mr Vega.” Garrus gestured towards James, who nodded in greeting to the asari. Her eyes quickly flicked back and forth between the two aliens in front of her.

“Pleasure, Mr Vakarian and Mr Vega. Do you have an appointment with Miss T'Loak?” The honey voiced asari repeated. _Shit_.

“No, but we're on good terms with each other, and I'd like to speak to her about something important.” Garrus said quickly. He could hear his tone flanging slightly as he urgently tried to think of something to say that would convince the asari, who was currently looking at him like he was the stupidest turian in the universe. Which, Garrus thought, he might be, if everything involving Hackett turns out to be above board and he'd snuck out of the ship like a lovesick teenager for nothing.

“I'm very sorry, but if you haven't got an appointment, I can't allow you to go up. However, I can make you an appointment if you wish. Let me see, the next one I have free is...” The asari poked around on her data-pad for a short moment.

“Seventy seven hours from now.” Garrus' heart stilled completely. Seventy seven hours? There was only so much damage he could cause to the ship without it looking suspicious.

“ _Seriously?_ ” James said, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“Yes. Would you like me to book you in? I can -”

“That won't be necessary, Tamira. I'll take it from here. Can you please see to it that our other guests are enjoying their evening meal?” Aria said as she exited the elevator and strode towards them.

“Of course, ma'am.” Tamira replied, before hurriedly disappearing through the door furthest from Garrus and James on their right.

“Well, fancy seeing you here, _Archangel_.” Aria purred as she stood in front of them; a smirk on her face as she regarded the unfamiliar man next to Garrus.

“Aria. Nice to see you made it through the war in one piece.” Aria let out a short bark of laughter.

“And you, too. Shame about some others, however.” Aria raised a brow slightly as her deep blue eyes stayed set on Garrus.

“Uh, yeah.” Garrus managed. James shifted beside him before clearing his throat.

“Lieutenant James Vega, ma'am. Pleasure to finally meet you.” James stuck out his hand, and Aria regarded it with amusement for a moment before she unfolded her arms and shook it firmly.

“ _Finally_ meet me? That sounds intriguing.” Aria's eyes sparkled with the kind of mirth that made Garrus feel very uneasy. He could take on a reaper on foot with Shepard, but Aria was seven kinds of terrifying (and she could probably survive air strikes from an entire fleet, unlike a reaper).

“I've heard a lot about you, ma'am.” Garrus resisted the urge to elbow James in the ribs to get him to shut up. Aria grinned.

“From Shepard, I hope? She was always quite the flatterer.” Aria said. James nodded, and Garrus blinked. Every time he heard her name it felt like someone had stuck a knife between his ribs. He secretly hoped that one day someone would so he'd never have to hear her name again.

“Formalities aside, Aria, I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time to ask you some questions.” Aria's eyes seemed to darken for a split second before she replied.

“Questions? About what?” Garrus could tell by the way her voice raised ever so slightly that she was now on guard.

“Hackett. He came to speak with you earlier. I need to know what about.” She appreciates a straight up approach.

“You were not told? I assumed that you were aware of the subject of our discussions, seeing as you're the general of the Normandy now.” Aria's fingers tapped once against her thigh.

“He said he was trying to arrange an alliance with you.” Garrus said.

“Correct.” Aria nodded.

“But I get the feeling that there was something else.” Garrus could see by the way Aria's jaw seemed to harden that the asari was running out of patience with him. He wasn't surprised; he never did quite have the knack for placating angry aliens like Shepard did.

“That was all.” Aria said firmly. James shifted in discomfort at the intense stare that Aria was alternating between them. Garrus swallowed.

“I see. Well, thanks for your time. Vega and I thought we might check out the marketplace while we're here.” Garrus took a step forward. So did Aria.

“I'd prefer if you didn't. Turians packing obvious heat on the station don't tend to fare so well down there. The krogan sized human doesn't help appearances, either.” Aria stated in a tone that changed _I'd prefer if you didn't_ to _you better fucking not_.

“No problem. I got plenty of room in here.” James ventured bravely as he unclipped Garrus' pistol, unzipped his jacket, and clipped it onto the opposite side of his own pistol before zipping his jacket back up again. Aria's lips moved into a thin line, and there was a moment of silence so tense that Garrus was afraid to breathe.

“Fine. Cause any trouble down there, though, and I'll have your asses.” Aria growled.

“Yes, ma'am.” James said as he and Garrus quickly moved towards the door that had _STAIRS TO MARKETPLACE_ written in all of the alien languages above it.

“I mean it, Vakarian.” Aria shouted from behind them.

****

James raised an eyebrow at Garrus, who raised a finger as an order to wait while he recovered from the eight flights of stairs they had just descended.

“Why didn't we use the elevator?” Garrus panted.

“This way was the fastest way to get away from Aria! Shit, she's just as fuckin' scary as Sparks said she was.” James frowned.

“Yeah, she's definitely something.” Garrus groaned as he straightened. He scratched at his fringe in embarrassment; post war military life meant missions were mostly simple drop and grabs, which were nothing compared to the _run for your fucking life and hope a banshee doesn't get you on the way_ war missions. He'd have to speak to James about helping him get fit again in his shuttle bay gym later.

“You good to go?” James extended a hand, but Garrus shook his head in a polite decline.

“Yeah. Let's go.” James and Garrus walked to the heavy metal door that opened onto the marketplace, and James paused and glanced at Garrus when his hand gripped the door handle. Garrus nodded, and James pushed open the door.

There was an immediate onslaught of noise when the presumably soundproofed door opened onto what seemed to be a side alleyway. Aliens bartering in their native languages, factory machine noises, and a deep hum that seemed to vibrate the metal floor below them made Garrus' audio canal throb in protest. He hadn't realised how quiet the Normandy had become since Shepard's absence.

“Dios!” James said as he took a step back and bumped into Garrus as a batarian wheeling a sack truck stacked with crates almost ran into him.

“Watch it!” The batarian snapped as he rolled past with his goods.

“You watch it!” James called back, and the batarian flipped him off over his shoulder. Garrus gave James a stern look before stepping further into the alleyway.

“Well, it sure smells like Omega.” James commented as he trudged alongside Garrus, who huffed in agreement.

“I wouldn't expect anything less.” Garrus mumbled. They walked to the end of the alley, and came out onto what Garrus assumed was the main floor. There were rows of stalls filled with people for as far as he could see. James growled as an asari commando yelling at someone on the other end of her comm headset shoved past him. _Yep, exactly like Omega._

“I'm not going to be held accountable for any trouble that happens!” James said through gritted teeth. A couple of quarians who were carrying a crate past them turned to glance at the large angry human.

“Let's move.” Garrus sidestepped a volus, and made his way down the first row. James was at his side a few seconds later.

“Soooo... any idea what we're looking for?” James asked as he pulled his shoulders in and tried to take up as little space as possible as people milled around him.

“Anything out of the ordinary. Look for anyone familiar, too. There's definitely something here that I'm not supposed to see.” Garrus said as he squashed himself against James' side to avoid running into a group of mercs that were spread out in front of an ammo stall.

“Alright.” James said. They made their way through the first two stalls; their eyes darting around quickly to take in every detail and every face that they could. They were half way down the third stall when James stopped and clapped a large hand over Garrus' shoulders, causing them both to come to a complete standstill in the middle of the thoroughfare. People swore and shoved past them, but neither of them moved.

“What? What is it?” Garrus looked around wildly as his hand automatically reached for his absent weapon.

“Over there. Shit, Scars. _Shit._ She looks like... she looks like Shepard. Fuck. She _really_ looks like Shepard.” Garrus followed the invisible line that James' pointing finger made, and he felt the blood drain from his face.

She didn't just look like Shepard. She _was_ Shepard.


	5. Blind as a fool, I can fake it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This picture sums up perfectly how I picture Shepard's hair: http://www.trekflashair.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/cute-blue-black-hair-dye.jpg

“Nah, it can't be. Shepard would never dye her hair those colours. Shit, her _face_ though. Shepard's doppelgänger for sure.” James said as both he and Garrus stared at the woman who was chatting to a batarian as they both unpacked smaller boxes from a large crate at what appeared to be a thermal clip store.

“Scars?” James' voice hardly registered as the room around Garrus seemed to slow and become silent. No. It couldn't be Shepard. James was right. Shepard would never dye her hair. She _certainly_ wouldn't put a ring through her nose like that, either. Garrus watched as the batarian next to her said something, and the woman threw back her head and laughed. Even from fifty metres away, the familiar sound managed to travel to Garrus' auditory canal. Before he could reason with himself, he stepped forward. James' protests swirled around him, but he didn't stop until he had reached the stall.

“Shepard?” He said when he had reached the display case at the front of the stall. The batarian and the woman continued their conversation, completely oblivious to the wide eyed turian at the counter.

“Shepard?” Garrus tried again, this time managing to catch their attention.

“Excuse me?” The deep voiced batarian questioned. The woman beside him folded her arms across her chest and glanced at him with narrowed eyes that were heavily rimmed in black kohl. Narrowed _green_ eyes that were heavily rimmed in black kohl.

“Shepard? I... is it you?” Garrus stammered. The woman frowned.

“Who?” The woman spoke, but her voice sounded wrong and completely unlike Shepard's. A scar running from the side of her nostril down to her top lip pulled her lip up slightly in an unintentional sneer. A silver ring ran through her left nostril. Her hair was long, much longer, and it's messy storm blue and grey coloured strands cascaded over her breasts. Four hundred days was long enough for Shepard's hair to grow that long, wasn't it?

“Can we help you with something?” The batarian asked, taking a step towards the counter.

“Yes, I...” Garrus' throat felt like it was closing over as he studied the woman in front of him. Her facial features were identical to Shepard's, but everything else about her was wrong. He suddenly felt very foolish. Doppelgänger, James had said.

“Are you after something or not? We've not got all night.” The woman's voice sounded like Traynor's. A British accent, Traynor had told Garrus when he had asked why she didn't sound like any of the other humans on board the Normandy. Garrus cast a quick glance over his shoulder; James was standing a few metres back, his thick brows furrowed in confusion as he too studied the Shepard look-a-like.

“Apologies. You just looked like someone I used to know. I'll... sorry.” Garrus said as he quickly turned and pushed his way through the crowd to and then past James. He was stopped by a large hand curling around his upper arm.

“Woah, slow down amigo.” James soothed, but Garrus yanked his arm away and picked up his pace. James jogged behind him to keep up, and followed him back through the door that they had entered the marketplace from. Garrus made it to the first step before he leant one hand on the railing and placed the other over his face. He held his breath to keep the mournful keening noise inside his throat. It worked for a few seconds, until the need to cry out overcame him. James clapped a hand over his shoulder in an attempt to comfort Garrus, but the physical contact only made him feel worse. James didn't have small, soft hands that could calm and excite him at the same time. He sank down into a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs. James looked down at him; the marine's scarred facial features softened by his concern. Garrus sat slumped against the first step for an indeterminable amount of time. He didn't look up when the door to the marketplace opened.

“Get out of here!” James growled, and whoever tried to enter quickly scurried away.

“Let's go.” James said gently as he extended a hand towards the despondent turian. Garrus slowly reached for it and let James pull him to his feet. He swayed unsteadily for a moment, and James instantly put an arm around his back to steady him.

“Can you walk?” James asked, and Garrus nodded. James pulled his arm away, and watched Garrus out of the corner of his eye as they made their way back up the stairs and to the Normandy's airlock.

****

“Breathe, Shepard. _Breathe_. Look at me! Breathe!” Aria said as she held onto Shepard's shaking shoulders.

“I... I...” Shepard's voice shook as tears ran thick black lines of makeup down her cheeks.

“Why didn't you get her out of there before he saw her? I gave you plenty of warning!” Aria turned to her right to shout at Bray, who was hovering awkwardly by Aria's sofa.

“Shepard said they wouldn't recognise her!” Bray replied weakly. Aria growled at him, and turned back to Shepard, who was slowly trying to slide down the wall and sit on the floor. Aria let her.

“I told you it would take more than a dye job and a fucking ring through your face! It was a miracle that you at least managed to change your voice!” Aria shouted in exasperation. Shepard wheezed.

“Fuck! Hackett said he wasn't even allowed on the station. _And_ he brought that fucking ridiculous man-krogan hybrid with him!” Aria yelled as she took a step back from Shepard, who had stopped sobbing and was now staring blankly at Aria's boots.

“I'm sorry, Aria, I didn't-”

“Shut _up_ , Bray. Go back down there and make sure no one thinks an unattended stall means everything's free.” Aria glared. Bray nodded, and left. Shepard sniffed. Aria jabbed at her temples with her fingers, before sighing and sitting down next to Shepard, who turned to face the asari.

“I'm... I'm sorry.” Aria said reluctantly. Shepard laughed; sad and hollow.

“It's not your fault. It was stupid to think that he would've stayed on the ship after specifically being told to stay away from the station.” Shepard's voice shook as she struggled not to choke on the cries that fought against her to be heard.

“He's a stubborn fool.” Aria said. Shepard's lips pulled into a small smile.

“Yeah.” She whispered. Shepard tilted her head back against the wall in Aria's personal apartment and closed her eyes.

“I understand why you're doing this, but I don't necessarily agree with it.” Aria said eventually.

“Aria...” Shepard warned. It was enough that she had to wrestle with her inner voice, let alone Aria's voice too.

“Please, I'm not trying to start an argument. I know that you didn't want to go back to the Alliance, but even I can see that you're walking away from something... special.” Even with her eyes closed, Shepard could tell that Aria was frowning. Being supportive didn't come easily for the asari, but Shepard appreciated that she was trying. Their friendship had come a long way since the strange struggle for power dynamic their encounters used to have.

“He's better off without me.” Shepard said bluntly. Leadership potential overshadowed by Shepard. Unlikely to fully develop under Shepard's command. The dossier's words had been stuck on a constant loop in her head ever since she had read them. Even though Garrus called himself a bad turian, Shepard knew that he wanted to be a good turian. He couldn't be if she was there. He'd blindly followed her into thousands of life threatening situations, and she didn't want to be responsible for his inevitable death. The guilt of Ashley's death still kept her awake some nights.

“Fine, Shepard. You just keep telling yourself whatever you want to believe and hope that it will magically fix the hole you've created inside of yourself.” Aria sighed as she got to her feet. Shepard opened her eyes to glare up at the asari that hovered over her.

“I just want you to know that magic isn't real, and it definitely isn't going to fix the both of you. He looked empty, Shepard. As empty as you do.” The words left Shepard feeling like she'd been hugged by Grunt, and she inhaled sharply.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do, Aria? Oh hi, Garrus, just joking, it really _is_ me, let's ride off into the sunset together on the Normandy, oh Hackett? Don't worry about him, we'll shove him out of the airlock. It'll be good fun! By the way, what do you think of my hair? If I flip it all to the left, you can see the giant scar where there was a pole embedded in my head!” Shepard snapped. Aria's brows raised slightly at her sarcastic outburst. Aria sighed. Shepard had been through a lot; her post war recovery had taken seven months (five of which were spent on the fuel station under Aria's guard; it had been Aria's mercs that had found Shepard's broken body on the Citadel, after all). Her mental recovery was harder to place a time frame on.

“Take the rest of the night off. You can stay here, if you want. I'll be out for a while.” Aria said as she made for the door. The asari stopped as her hand touched the door handle, and she turned back to face Shepard.

“Don't let people you care about slip away. _Don't_ torture yourself like this, Shepard.” Aria said softly before leaving Shepard more alone. The longer she sat on her lonesome, the more she realised that leaving her old life behind was much easier said than done.


	6. Telling the truth with lies.

It was time to accept that Shepard was gone. Gone, and not coming back. Not to a shitty fuel station, and definitely not to the Normandy. The realisation felt slightly freeing, but mostly unpleasantly heavy against his chest.  
Garrus inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. Flashes of ice blue and metal made them fly open again.

“EDI?” Garrus asked.

“Yes?” EDI's voice was soft and soothing.

“Is Chakwas in the med-bay?” He could have just stuck his head outside of his room and checked for himself, but his body protested just at the thought.

“No. She has retired for the evening. Can I help you with anything?”

“No, thank you EDI.” Garrus forced his aching body off of his bed, and sauntered towards the door. He didn't bother dressing properly; pants would preserve his modesty should he run into anyone well enough. He entered the dimly lit mid bay, and went straight for the cabinet that he knew held the fast acting sedatives from his previous trips there. His hands shook as he held the tiny box in his hands, then pulled the foil packet out and pushed three pale blue tablets into his palm. He gulped them back without any water, then returned the box to it's usual spot. He stared at it for a moment, before picking it back up again and deciding to take it with him. He couldn't afford to see Shepard in his dreams as well as when he was awake; it was going to break him. If I'm not broken already, he thought as he wandered back to his room and lay down on his bed, which felt entirely too large for just one person. So this was the person he had become. Lonely, and depressed, and feeling like he had nothing in the world any more. He'd never understood the pain of people around him when they had gone through a break up; in fact, he'd found their moping to be pathetic. Yet, here he was, moping on his bed and secretly hoping that the sedatives might put him into a dreamless sleep forever so he didn't have to experience the mental pain that had managed to lace it's way through his joints and manifest as an aching physical pain.  
A single tear left a burning path down the side of his face and came to a halt at the entrance of his auditory canal before he was pulled into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

****

With the Normandy still docked and repairs progressing seamlessly, EDI was able to focus her full attention on the fuel station's programming. She'd alternated between running background programs on the ship and mining any useful data she could from the station's hardware. She had found many interesting bits of information that she would later present to Garrus, but the most interesting thing she had found was the woman who looked exactly like Shepard. She had viewed the interaction between her and Garrus earlier, and she was intrigued. How could some humans look so alike if they weren't related? She began a background search of the extra-net on the topic.

EDI watched through one of the marketplace surveillance cameras as the woman slowly walked through the still bustling marketplace with her arms folded protectively under her bust. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks were blotchy with worn off make-up. EDI pushed further into the station's surveillance programming whilst making sure that her influence would never be detected. She used a program that she had constructed herself to wipe all traces of her intrusion. If she still had her mobile platform, she would be smiling. She watched as the Shepard woman returned to the stall that she had attended earlier, and waved the batarian away who was leaning on the counter and looking impossibly bored. The batarian straightened and placed a hand on her shoulder. He spoke, and the woman nodded, then placed her own hand over the batarians to pat it gently. EDI activated the audio feed for the camera, and increased the sensor's range.

“You sure you're alright? I can stay down here until the morning cycle if you need some more time to yourself.” The batarian asked.

“Thanks, Bray. I'm good, though. Being down here will help take my mind off it. Plus, I've still got some inventory to sort.” The woman dropped her hand to her side and the Bray batarian did the same with his own hand. Were they lovers? No, EDI decided, just good friends. Their tone and interactions reminded her of Shepard and Lieutenant Vega's; comfortable touching each other, but not intimately. What was the woman upset about? Had something happened after Garrus and James left when she had abandoned the video feed? EDI set to work on scanning through all of the possible channels to find what had happened to cause the woman's obvious distress. She paused on one that looked promising.

The woman stayed at the stall for just short of twenty three minutes before leaving it without a word to her batarian friend, who at first watched her leave with a look of confusion, then followed her. EDI switched cameras again to watch as the two of them entered an elevator on the far side of the market. The woman seemed to break down in the elevator, and almost fainted before the batarian lunged forward to catch her before she hit the ground. The audio feed produced nothing; the woman was mumbling and sobbing too low and fast for even EDI to pick up what she was saying. The elevator doors opened, and the batarian put his arm around the back of her shoulders and helped her out of the elevator and through a small foyer area. They reached a door, and the batarian knocked on it harshly. One, two, three, four times before the door opened. A familiar asari opened the door with a scowl, which softened slightly when she saw the woman slumped against the batarian's side.

“What the hell happened to her, Bray?” The asari that EDI recognised from her time in Purgatory as Aria T'Loak berated the batarian.

“They... he saw her.” Bray stammered.

“Shit. Bring Shepard in.” Aria opened the door wider and stepped aside and let the two of them into her room. There was no surveillance software in Aria's room (none that EDI could find, anyway, and if EDI couldn't find it, it didn't exist), so EDI pulled away from the station completely, to settle in the AI core on the Normandy.

Shepard. It _was_ Shepard. EDI halted all non compulsory programs to focus on the situation. Why would Shepard pretend not to know Garrus and James? Amnesia was ruled out – her response to their visit clearly proved that she knew exactly who they were. Why had she not tried to contact the Normandy? EDI became frustrated as she tried desperately to worm her way into the surveillance files from Hackett's room. Once again, she got nowhere. She wanted to slam a fist down onto a table or shoot something or just move, but she was once again confined to a bodiless form, which frustrated her further.

EDI quickly decided that there was only one way to get the answers she sought. She was going to have to contact Shepard directly.

****

EDI had two options. The first, she could take control of the surveillance camera directly above Shepard's stall to get her attention, but she would need to make voice loud for Shepard to hear her, and she didn't want to risk drawing any unwanted attention to Shepard by doing so. The second option, which EDI decided was the best tactical option, was to take control of Shepard's omni tool. That, however, would only work if Shepard had a communications app installed. EDI pushed part of herself back onto the station, and set about inserting a part of herself into Shepard's omni tool. It was easier than EDI had thought it would be; there was only a weak firewall, and almost no security apps. It made sense, EDI supposed. It didn't seem like Shepard thought anyone would find her, let alone want to contact her. EDI had control of the omni tool's communications in seconds. She activated a message notification, which caused a small holographic projection of the interface. Shepard looked at it with a frown when she realised that there was no text in the message.

“What the _fuck?_ ” She muttered to herself as she moved her other hand to the hologram to investigate her malfunctioning omni-tool further.

“Shepard?” Shepard's eyes went wide for a split second before she jabbed at the interface to shut it off. She looked around wildly; hoping that no one had heard. People bustled past the stall, but no one even so much as glanced at her. EDI tried again; she activated a message notification, and blocked it from being closed down. Shepard jabbed at it furiously.

“Shepard, it's EDI.” EDI pleaded. Had Shepard forgotten her? She hoped that she hadn't – Shepard had been EDI's best friend, and had been there for her whenever she had a question to ask, no matter how ridiculous, embarrassing, or intrusive. Shepard swore under her breath as she continued trying to shut the message app down.

“Please, Shepard. It's just EDI. No one else on the Normandy knows.” EDI tried gently. Shepard's eyes widened, and she stared silently at the omni tool's projection, which shimmered into a small holographic projection of EDI's face and torso. EDI smiled at her, and Shepard stood up, then walked to hide out of sight from the crowds behind a tall supply crate.

“What are you doing?” Shepard hissed. EDI's smile faded. She thought that Shepard would have been pleased to see her? EDI was certainly pleased to see her friend again.

“I came to see you.” EDI replied, as if the answer was obvious.

“I can see that. But why? Have you told Garrus?” Shepard whispered frantically as she peered around the side of the crate to make sure no one was jacking the merchandise. She was not in the mood for running after a vorcha again. They were fucking _fast._

“No, Shepard, no one else knows. Only me.”

“Good. Let's keep it that way, ok EDI?” Shepard said, her voice becoming calmer when she realised that no one would be coming for her.

“Alright, Shepard. Are you ok?” EDI could see the deep scar on her upper lip, and she noticed a pitted burn scar poking out from the collar of her tight black t-shirt. Whoever had healed her had done a professional job.

“Yes, I'm fine. I just... please don't tell anyone else that I'm here. _Please_ , EDI.” Shepard begged as she leant back against the crate.

“I'm confused, Shepard. I don't understand.” The AI was truly struggling to understand why Shepard was so adverse to anyone knowing that she was alive. Shepard sighed.

“I... I did my part, EDI. Everything's fixed. Well, almost. I know that Thessia and Earth are still a burning pile of rubble. I don't want to be swamped with questions about what happened. About what I did. I don't want to talk about it. I just want to leave it behind, and I don't want to go back to the Alliance or the Normandy. Everyone can get on just fine without me, now.” EDI was certain she understood that part; Shepard had been through a lot, and wanted to retire. However, that still didn't explain why she was keeping her distance from her friends.

“You do not have to go back if you do not want to, Shepard.” EDI stated.

“I know, EDI. I know. I just needed to start over. I need to have a life that is completely devoid of the Alliance and reapers and everything that came with it. I need to be Rose Shilling.” Shepard put on her fake accent for the last sentence.

“Do you hate me? Have I done something to upset you?” EDI asked hopelessly. Shepard's face fell and she slowly shook her head. When she looked back to EDI, her eyes were glassy.

“No, EDI. Of course not. Quite the opposite. I miss all of you so much, but I won't weigh people down with their expectations of me when I'm not the person I used to be.” Shepard meant it. She had experienced significant head trauma after the Citadel was destroyed and she fell with it, which meant that her memory was dull and fuzzy at best; the previous week she had been cooking herself dinner in her tiny apartment and for a terrifying few minutes, she had forgotten entirely where she was and how she got there. She didn't want anyone to be her carer.

She couldn't decide if it was a blessing or a curse that her memories with Garrus were left intact.

“I find that hard to believe. You look different, but you are still you, Shepard.” EDI tried. Shepard looked at the floor for a moment before responding.

“I am different, EDI. I just want to be alone.” Shepard could see the hurt briefly register across EDI's face, even though her projection was quite fuzzy. Pangs of guilt settled in her gut like acid.

“Please, Shepard.” EDI tried in vain.

“I'm sorry, EDI. Please don't take it personally. I just... I just need time, ok? Maybe one day I'll come back.” Shepard felt horrible for giving the AI false hope, but if it was to satisfy her, then so be it. Her words had the intended effect, and EDI smiled softly. Shepard returned one of her own (which, she thought, probably looked like she was giving a patronising sneer considering the unfortunate placement of her scar).

“Hey! Is anyone there? I need some help!” A quarian called from the stall's front counter.

“Just a second!” Shepard called back in her fake accent.

“I have to go, EDI. Thank you for coming to check on me.” Shepard whispered.

“I will always care for you, Shepard. Garrus will, too. He hasn't been the same without you.” EDI didn't mean for her words to sound like a guilt trip, but Shepard gave her no time to apologise.

“I really have to go. Please, EDI.” EDI committed Shepard's face to her internal memory for what she hoped wouldn't be the last time.

“Ugh, never mind! I'll go somewhere else that doesn't have terrible service!” The quarian shouted in irritation.

“Goodbye, Shepard.” And with that, EDI was gone. Shepard took a deep breath before completely turning off her omni tool and digging the heel of her palms into her eyes. _He hasn't been the same without you_. What had she _done?_


	7. But it won't be long 'til I break it.

Two and a half hours after EDI had jumped into her omni-tool's system, a turian came to relieve Shepard of her shift at the stall. She nodded in greeting to the turian that she'd seen looking after the stall on her days off and at the delivery port a few times, who politely tilted his head in a silent greeting of his own.

“Anything I need to know?” He asked. Shepard raised an eyebrow.

“About the stock, I mean.” The turian clarified as he waved his hand in the direction of the counter.

“Oh. No, I've done the inventory and I've placed an order. There is a couple of crates back there that you can sort through if you're desperate to do something, though.” Shepard jerked her thumb over her shoulder towards the back of the stall, where two large crates of stock were waiting.

“I'll get right to it.” Shepard nodded, and reached under the counter to pick up her small satchel bag. When she straightened, the turian was staring at her. Shepard frowned, and the turian averted his gaze to the ground. The overhead fluorescent lights illuminated his purple markings, making them even more vibrant than they already were.

“Something wrong?” Shepard asked. The turian looked up at her, then looked at the counter as his mandibles flicked in what Shepard interpreted as nervousness.

“No. Nothing at all. Just uh... you're Shepard, right?” The turian finally allowed his crimson coloured eyes to meet Shepard's. Shepard hissed, putting a finger over her lips and yanking the turian to the back of the stall by his thin forearm.

“Keep it down!” She growled, and the turian looked at her with wide eyes.

“I'm sorry, I just... we met once, on the Citadel. I don't know if you'd remember me.” The turian whispered as he looked around in the hopes that he hadn't drawn any attention to Shepard.

“Oh?” Shepard said as she furrowed her brows and studied the turian. He stayed silent; giving her time to see if she could remember on her own. When she gave him a look of hopelessness, he shifted on his feet and scratched the back of his neck in a gesture that seemed to be universally adopted by turians.

“I, uh, I'm Tactus. You asked me to do a medical supplies trade with you, and I was an asshole about it. I didn't think I'd get a chance to apologise, with the war and then your disappearance, but, uh, Aria briefed me on your... situation, so I'd like to... I'd like to apologise now.” Tactus said. It was uncommon for Aria to alert any of her employees to Shepard's situation and real identity, which gave Shepard the impression that Tactus was one of the rare few who Aria trusted.

“You really _were_ an asshole, Tactus.” Shepard stated. She remembered the stubborn and difficult turian as soon as he said his name. Tactus winced and shifted again.

“I was. I'm sorry. It was... regrettable to act that way when so many people were depending on me.” Shepard frowned sympathetically. She knew how that felt. She reached out to give his bony shoulder a poke.

“Apology accepted.” She smiled, and the turian grinned back at her.

“Thank you.” Tactus said, and Shepard waved him away before slinging her satchel over her shoulder and turning to leave.

“One last thing, Shepard.” Long talons curled around her wrist and stopped her in her tracks. She turned back to Tactus, who still held her wrist firmly in his grasp. The feeling of his bare digits wrapped around her own bare skin unexpectedly shot waves of heat throughout her body. She pushed a memory of Garrus pinning her wrists above her head and nipping at her neck out of her mind before it could have any further effect on her.

“When will Vakarian be coming back? I saw him a few hours ago, but before I could approach him he practically ran out of the market. I wanted to thank him for-”

“No. He won't be coming back.” Shepard interrupted.

“I see.” Tactus' brow plates lowered as he gently let go of Shepard's wrist.

“I'm sorry, I have to ask. Were you two together? There was gossip in the docks and throughout the-”

“Not any more.” Shepard interrupted again.

“Oh. Oh, right. I'm... sorry?” Tactus stammered. Shepard shrugged.

“Not your fault.” She said. Tactus opened his mouth to speak, before he was cut off again.

“This one wishes to purchase some items.” Shepard looked over her shoulder to see a hanar at the counter, where it had placed a large pile of merchandise. Shepard gave Tactus another nod, before leaving and making her way through the alien crowd towards the station's employee mess hall. She hadn't had an appetite all day, but suddenly, she was _starving_.

****

“Concerned, is she going to be alright?” Harrot asked. Aria stood with her arms folded next to the giant elcor, stunned by the fact that his heavy, thumping footsteps had not woken Shepard.

“Yes.” Aria replied.

“Relieved, I'm glad.”

“Thank you for letting me know, Harrot. You can go back to your duties now.” Aria nodded without looking at the elcor. How could Shepard have fallen asleep in the mess hall of all places? There was constant noise and foot traffic. Harrot sauntered off to return to whatever it was he was doing before finding Shepard face down and fast asleep on the mess hall table. Aria sighed, and leant over the table to remove a lock of Shepard's hair that had fallen into her soup.

“Shepard.” Aria whispered as she combed her nails through Shepard's tousled hair in the hopes of rousing her gently.

“Shepard.” Aria tried again, but was only met with a soft snore. A nearby asari giggled into her hand.

“Shepard!” She shouted, and Shepard bolted upright. Her green eyes glanced around wildly in confusion at her surroundings. Her face softened when she realised where she was, and her cheeks slowly flushed when she wiped a line of drool from her chin.

“Good sleep?” Aria teased. Shepard glared at her as she slowly got out of her chair. Crumbs fell onto the floor from her lap as she stood. Aria rolled her eyes.

“Go to bed, Shepard.” Aria commanded. Shepard picked up her plate and walked over to place it in the dishwasher.

“I'm not tired.” Shepard sounded like an insolent child in denial, and Aria was too exhausted herself to start an argument.

“Right.” The asari said doubtfully. Shepard sighed and leant against the counter island.

“Have they gone yet?” Shepard asked quietly. Aria shook her head.

“The repairs are almost finished. The damage wasn't as bad as first thought, so the quarians have progressed much quicker than planned. They should be gone in the next couple of hours.” The whole Normandy damage incident had royally pissed Aria off; she'd had to pay for the damage, and she was down one fuel ship. The worst thing, Aria thought, was that she'd had to speak to that insufferable Alliance Admiral again. He had a way of speaking that made Aria feel like he was her superior, even though she could snap his neck with her mind if she really wanted to. _Smug asshole_ , Aria thought. Shepard's tired eyes brightened with mirth at Aria's disgusted expression.

“Don't ask.” Aria said before briskly making her way back to her room, where a very naked and very eager turian was hopefully still waiting for her. Shepard had always had a bad sense of timing.

****

The repairs had progressed far too quickly for EDI's liking. How could she get Shepard and Garrus together again if the ship left the station? She had spent the previous few hours mulling over her conversation with Shepard, and was becoming increasingly frustrated by the fact that she couldn't talk to anyone else about it because Shepard had asked her not to, and Shepard was her friend. However, Shepard had told her that friends don't keep secrets from other friends, which meant that now EDI was keeping secrets from her friends, too. The strange feeling that she suspected was guilt made everything feel all wrong.

“Hello? Joker to EDI? Have you taken a trip somewhere more interesting? Can I come?” Joker sighed as he slumped in his pilot's chair.

“I am always here, Jeff.” EDI replied.

“Yeah, I know, I was just- never mind.”

“You were making a joke. I know.”

“You didn't laugh.”

“I did not.”

Joker pouted and adjusted his hat.

“Jeff, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot, EDI.” Joker said as he made a gun with his fingers and pointed it at the viewing window, before pretending to shoot it.

“Why would someone keep a secret from a friend?” EDI could see that her question had taken him by surprise as he immediately straightened in his chair.

“What? Uhhhh... what makes you ask that?” Joker frowned, suspicious of the question. He knew for certain that the question was not inspired by him; EDI knew his every move, which meant someone else had piqued her interest. Joker wondered who on the ship it could be. Sometimes he wished that he had access to every area of the Normandy; spending most of his time in the bridge was mind-numbingly boring.

“I am just curious.”

“Uh huh. Well, I guess there could be a lot of reasons. Maybe the person is trying to protect their friend? Or not let them get their feelings hurt. You know.” Joker waved his hand in the air and made a face. EDI knew that he was not very good at articulating his own feelings, but she had hoped that he had some insight on other's. Sadly, she was still confused.

“The extra-net told me similar things.” EDI sighed. Joker frowned in thought again.

“Would you be mad if a friend kept a secret from you?” EDI asked.

“It depends what kind of secret. Am I going to be hurt?”

“Emotionally, possibly, however not physically.”

“Phew, well that's a relief.” Joker slumped in his chair again and tapped a finger against his jawline.

“Yes? I think. Are you trying to tell me that my breath smells, EDI?” Joker narrowed his eyes at the console above his own, where EDI's form shimmered to life across the screen.

“No, Jeff. Your breath is fine. You have remarkably good dental hygiene, considering your poor dietary choices.”

“Ouch.” Joker placed a hand over his heart and feigned offence.

“Would you want to know, Jeff? Even if the truth hurt?” EDI asked again. Joker hesitated for a moment. The Alliance waited two weeks after the Normandy was destroyed over Alchera to tell him that they weren't going to look for her body. He had wished that he had known sooner; even with his brittle bones, he would've organised a ship and looked for her himself.

“Yeah, I would want to know.”

“Thank you, Jeff.” EDI said gently.

“You're welcome. I think.” Joker leant forward to bring up his music app. EDI stayed silent; contemplating her options as Joker started a song that contained far too much yelling for her to do her contemplating in peace, no matter how big her processing core was. The repairs would be finished within the hour, and time was running out if she wanted to reunite Shepard and Garrus. It would make both of them happy. _Wouldn't it?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You meet Tactus in mission Citadel: Medical Supplies. You can see a picture of him here: https://www.google.com.au/search?q=tactus+me3&espv=2&biw=1920&bih=979&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=QYTdVPrsK5GB8QWxkoCwBA&ved=0CAcQ_AUoAg#imgdii=_&imgrc=I35peVOJRSJdrM%253A%3BFxDel52tmefMzM%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fth08.deviantart.net%252Ffs71%252FPRE%252Ff%252F2012%252F252%252Ff%252F5%252Fme3_tactus_by_chicksaw2002-d5e38cd.jpg%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fchicksaw2002.deviantart.com%252Fart%252FME3-Tactus-325996285%3B1131%3B707


	8. Cause you know, you know.

Shepard woke with a violent start. She sat up quickly before turning to her bedside table and reaching for the pistol that she kept there. When she turned back to the room with gun pointed, she felt extremely foolish. There was no one there except her. Of course not, Aria put you in the most secure apartment on the station, her inner monologue growled. She sighed and put the pistol back in it's place, and flopped back down onto the bed. Despite the fan whirring above her and being clad in only underwear and a thin singlet, she was drenched with sweat. She couldn’t remember the specifics of her dream, but her excessive sweating, pounding headache and rapidly beating heart told her all she needed to know about it's contents. _It's better than dreams of him_ , she told herself. _At least you know what to do with violence._

Shepard rolled onto her side and stared at the gun. It's sleek and shiny silver form was illuminated a hot pink colour from the red light that drifted into her small room from the living area. Bray had suggested she change it to a less menacing blue light last time he came over for beers and to watch the latest Blasto movie with her, but she had quickly shut that idea down. There was already enough blue lingering in the back of her mind; she didn't need her personal space filled with it either.

“Shepard?” Bray's voice quietly asked from the intercom speaker next to her gun.

“Yeah?” Shepard said as she lifted herself up onto one elbow and used her pinky finger to scratch some sleep away from her eyes. She quickly glanced at the time that was digitally displayed on the intercom speaker. She'd only slept for an hour and a half. _More than usual, at least_.

“Just wanted to let you know that the repairs are finished and the Normandy should be getting ready to leave soon.” Shepard still found it hard to believe that the smart ass batarian that she first met on the Citadel would become such a close friend. She could see why Aria kept him around, even if the asari did threaten to kill him at least twice a week.

“Oh. Thanks, Bray.” Shepard mumbled.

“No problem. I'll see you later.”

“Yeah.” Shepard replied, just in time before there was that faint click that let her know that Bray had disconnected his intercom from hers. She stayed resting on her elbow for a moment before deciding that she would get up and have a quick shower. There was no way that she was going to be able to get back to sleep, so wandering around the station would keep her mind semi-occupied.

“Maybe Harrot needs help with something.” She muttered to herself as she removed her sweat-soaked clothing and threw them into the laundry basket that sat just inside her small en-suite. Even if Harrot didn't need any help, she knew that the friendly elcor wouldn't mind her hovering.

****

It took all of Shepard's willpower not to glance out of the large one way viewing windows that lined the hall across from her apartment. She'd always been somewhat of a masochist, but even she wouldn't dare glimpse one last sight of the Normandy. She was only just beginning to get her shit together again, and she didn't want to lose it the way she had when she had woken up wrapped in bandages and bruised beyond relief to see Aria's stern face looming over her.

“Shepard? Uh, _shit_ , sorry, I mean, Rose?” Shepard raised an eyebrow as she stopped and spun around. Tactus was jogging towards her from the other end of the hallway, his mandibles pulled tightly to his face in embarrassment.

“Tactus.” Shepard gave him a half smile and nodded when he finally came to a stop in front of her.

“I was hoping I'd see you again. I mean, because I wanted to ask you if you'd like to come to my apartment. _Shit_ , that didn't come out right.” Tactus winced and scratched the back of his neck in a way that was so Garrus that her breath hitched in her throat. Tactus hesitated at the unreadable expression on her face, but held his hands up and continued slowly.

“What I _meant_ to say was, I've been experimenting with some pistol mods and some of the other guys that work in the market said you're the one to get advice and opinions from. About mods, I mean.” Shepard raised her other eyebrow, and Tactus mumbled something to himself.

“That didn't sound convincing, did it? I'm sorry. Truly, I'd love some advice from you, I've looked over the pieces you made for the stall. To be totally honest with you, I've tried to emulate the Carnifex scope that you made? That one was really... really uh, impressive.” Tactus' tone flanged with anxiety. He was babbling. Was babbling a turian thing? Because Garrus babbled all the time.

 _And you loved it_ , her inner voice reminded her.

“Yeah, sure. Lead the way.” Shepard shrugged her shoulders, and Tactus' eyes widened with relief.

“This way!” Tactus turned around, and tilted his head in the direction that he came from. Shepard grinned, and followed.

The purple marked turian babbled the entire way to his apartment. Shepard was hesitant to admit that she didn't mind his nervous chattering at all.

****

Shepard's eyes narrowed as she surveyed Tactus' apartment. She always joked that she had the smallest apartment on the station, but it seemed that she really _did_ have the smallest one. Tactus' apartment was almost as large as Aria's. When Tactus shifted anxiously at her prolonged silence, she gave him a teeth baring grin.

“Nice place.” Tactus glanced at the floor, and then seemed to avoid her eyes by staring at her shoulder. She hadn't meant for it to sound sarcastic; it really was a nice apartment. Minimalist furniture, and very, very tidy. She liked tidy. A tidy room made her own mind feel less cluttered.

“I like the ah, the ah...” Shepard waved her hand in the direction of a glass display shelf that supported various large geode pieces. The multicoloured and multi-shaped pieces drew her closer, and she slowly raised a hand to touch a bright pink piece that reminded her of a split quartz geode that she had seen at a museum when she was a kid back on Earth. A turian hand shot out beside her to stop her.

“Dirisharv. It can cause skin irritation in humans.” Tactus said. Shepard felt the heat rising in her cheeks.

“Oh. Sorry.” Shepard replied as she gently pulled her arm from his grasp. His mandibles flared slightly in a small grin.

“Don't be. The first time I saw grumari I picked it up straight away, without any gloves on. I've still got a scar on my palm from where the rash never quite healed right.” Shepard followed his gaze to a stunning multicoloured piece that reminded her of labradorite that was encased in a glass box. She glanced back to Tactus, then down to his hand. He lifted his palm to let her inspect the pitted scar that covered his entire palm. Shepard gently wrapped her small hands around his larger one to tilt it up so she could study it.

“Ouch.” She said sympathetically. His scar reminded her of the burn scars on her thighs that made her already upturned upper lip pull up further at the sight of it.

Tactus chuckled.

“Yeah. It was stupid. But it's hard not to touch interesting things sometimes.” Shepard's brows shot up.

“Spirits. I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be inappropriate.” Tactus took his hand out of hers and slapped it over his flat face, dragging it downwards as he groaned. Shepard laughed; not holding back as she let her rich happiness fill the air around them. Tactus, who was scared that he might have offended her with his accidental double-entendres one too many times, grinned in relief.

“Come on. Show me these mods you were talking about.” Shepard lightly touched his forearm, and Tactus led her to the adjoining room.

“Sorry. It's a bit of a-” Tactus was cut off as Shepard rushed forward to the giant table that took up the majority of what she assumed was a bedroom converted into a workspace. Numerous mods and spare parts were littered across the expanse of it's polished steel surface.

“- mess.” Tactus finished unnecessarily as Shepard ooohed over a piece that caught her eye.

 _Keep her busy until the Normandy leaves_ , Aria had told him when she had sauntered over to the stall and told him to finish his shift early. With the way Shepard was scooping pieces up in her arms and making a small pile in front of herself to look through, Tactus huffed in relief; keeping the erratic Commander Shepard occupied was going to be a lot easier than he thought.

****

EDI had run out of time. The repair drones had finished completely, and Hackett had issued orders to the crew. They were to divert to Tuchanka to meet with Urdnot Wrex before heading back to Earth for a crew rotation. That meant that it would be at least another two weeks before there would even be a possibility that the Normandy would pass even remotely close to the fuel station again. _No. That would not do._

“Jeff?” EDI's gentle voice said through the pilot's personal intercom.

“Mmmm?” Joker replied absent mindedly as he worked his fingers over his console to begin the Normandy's pre-flight procedures.

“There is something that I need to do. I need you to go along with it.” Joker's hands stilled as he raised two bushy brows.

“'Cause that doesn't sound ominous at _all_.” He glanced up at the screen above his console, but looked back down when he realised EDI's form was not being displayed like usual.

“You wanna tell me what this thing is that you need to do? Are you going to commandeer another body?” Joker asked, half joking and half serious. They had only just begun to physically explore each other before the war ended and EDI's body was rendered completely broken.

“No.”

“Riiiight. No to telling me or no to another body?”

“Both.” EDI decided. If the plan was to work, Joker needed to be able to look Hackett in the eye and tell him he had absolutely no idea what was happening. As soon as she thought about Hackett, she had formulated a solution for that problem. Still, Joker wasn't great at keeping secrets, and EDI needed to be the one to tell Garrus.

“EDI, you-” Joker swore as the Normandy's systems powered down. The red emergency lights came to life and cast menacing shadows throughout the bridge.

“Shit! EDI? EDI?” Joker jabbed at his console, but it wasn't responding.

“What's going on, Moreau?” Hackett's voice boomed through the intercom.

“I don't... I don't know, sir. Our systems seem to have gone offline.” Joker replied.

“EDI?” He hissed again, but still received no reply. EDI through the bridge's surveillance feed as Joker slammed his fists down onto his console.

“Can you get it back up?” Hackett asked.

“No, sir. My console is completely out. You might need to see Adams or Traynor about this.” Joker groaned.

“Dammit!” Hackett yelled, and Joker winced.

“I can't come down there. My door controls are offline, and the only comm line I can use is the line to you.” _Lucky me_ , Joker thought.

“Right, sir. I'll send Traynor up straight away.”

“Joker? What in the spirit’s-” Garrus' perplexed voice questioned from behind him. Joker held up a finger to silence the turian, but it was too late.

“Vakarian! Do you know how this happened?” Hackett shouted. Joker swivelled his chair around to give the surprised turian a sympathetic look.

“No, sir. I was just in my cabin, and then-” Joker was dragging a finger across his throat in a silent command for Garrus to stop talking. He gave up when the turian only looked at him with confusion. Joker sighed.

“So it seems my door is the only one that is jammed!” Hackett swore under his breath, and Joker tried his very hardest not to laugh. What was EDI _doing?_

“Uhhh...” Garrus said very eloquently.

“The damn AI isn't responding either! Get Traynor up here!” Hackett barked.

“Yes, sir!” Garrus replied before turning and jogging towards the comms room.

“I don't know what you're doing EDI, but you should definitely lock Hackett in his room more often. Maybe next time cut his comms, too.” Joker grinned.

****

“I'm sorry, Admiral, there's nothing I can do.” Traynor sighed as she ran a sweaty palm through her short brunette hair.

“I'll be fine for now, but just... just fix it, Specialist!” Hackett's exasperated voice yelled through the intercom speaker next to the cabin's door.

“Yes, sir. I'll see how the system diagnostics are running.” Traynor replied before gathering her three data pads and sauntering back to the elevator. Garrus followed, and reached out just in time to catch a data pad that slipped from Traynor's grasp.

“Thank you.” She said as Garrus slipped it back under her arm. Garrus nodded, and pressed the button that would take them back to the CIC deck.

“So what are we thinking? Virus? System damage caused by the repair drones?” Garrus asked. Traynor sighed.

“Honestly? I've got no bloody idea. There didn't seem to be any actual damage to the systems when they went down, more of a... more of just a block in the programming. There's no evidence that this came from a third party. It all seems to have originated from the Normandy.” Traynor's brows furrowed in frustration.

“Well, let me know if you come across anything. I'm going to go check in on everyone on deck three.” Garrus said when the elevator doors opened.

“Will do, Garrus.” Traynor gave him a quick smile before stepping out. He huffed through his nose, then made his way to deck three. It was truly beginning to feel like the universe had it in for him; first seeing the Shepard look-a-like, and now there was another thing wrong with the Normandy that meant the ship had to stay docked at the godforsaken fuel station even longer. He wanted to leave, dammit.

“Garrus? Everything seems to be in working order on this deck, but the comms are completely out.” Garrus stopped quickly to avoid barrelling into James, who had clearly been waiting for his arrival.

“Crap.” Garrus raked a talon down his fringe. With EDI down too, the system repairs could take days.

“Is Hackett really locked in his room?” James whispered as a giant grin pulled at his mouth.

“Yes.” Garrus replied, trying not to chuckle. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn't deny that it was funny. James snorted as he followed Garrus to his room.

“What are you doing?” James inquired.

“I'm going to sit in my room until this is sorted.” Garrus replied honestly. James raised his eyebrows.

“Well I don't know how to fix it, and if Traynor can't fix it, I sure as hell can't. Besides, it's not like Hackett's around to bark orders at me.” Garrus shrugged. He truly had reached new levels of _I don't give a fuck_. James sighed.

“Yeah, you're right. I'm gonna head down to engineering and see if Adams needs something heavy moved.” Garrus nodded at his human friend, then stepped inside his room. The door quickly shut behind him.

He went straight for Shepard's metal nameplate, which he kept on his bedside table. He had refused to put it on the memorial block with everyone else's. He couldn't bring himself to do it when the war had ended, and he couldn't do it now, over a year later. He would never give up hope. Shepard would come back to him somehow. She had to. He held it carefully; stroking a long finger over the cool metal and taking extra care not to scratch it with a sharp nail that had grown in Shepard's absence.

“Garrus.” EDI's voice startled him, and he paused.

“... EDI?” Garrus asked incredulously as he peered at the ceiling.

“There is something that you need to know.” Garrus' heart slowed to almost nothing. Were they under attack? Had EDI finally decided that overthrowing her human employers was a good idea? Spirits, he hoped not. He felt at least a decade older than he was and nothing short of sleeping for an entire year would revive him.

“What?” Garrus asked carefully.

“I have spent a great deal of time trying to decide if I should tell you. I was not sure if you would take it well, or appreciate it, but I-”

“EDI. _Please_. Please just tell me.” Garrus groaned. He tensed every tensable muscle in his body in preparation for the inevitably bad news.

“The woman that you encountered in the markets of the fuel station is not Shepard's doppelganger.” EDI said. Garrus squeezed his eyes shut. _Please not a clone. Please, not another clone._

“Who is she then?” Garrus ventured.

“Garrus, it _is_ Shepard.”

The words didn't register with Garrus for what felt like an eternity. He finally opened his mouth to speak, and when he did, his throat ached from it's sudden dryness.

“How... how did you...” His voice was raspy and uncertain.

“I spoke to her. She asked me not to tell you that it truly was her. I am sorry, Garrus. I know that friends do not lie to each other, but I was unsure-” Garrus threw the nameplate in the direction of his bed, then spun on his heel and ran out of his room and back into the elevator, cutting off James who was just about to step into the waiting carriage. Just as the doors were about to shut, James jammed his hand into the closing gap between them.

“Woah, what's going on?” James asked. His face fell when he saw Garrus.

“She's... I...” James stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to close the doors.

“Slow down. What's wrong?” James asked; his hand instinctively going to the combat knife holstered at his side.

“I have just informed Garrus that the woman you encountered on the station is, in fact, Shepard.” EDI interjected. James' eyes widened as he glanced at the ceiling and back to Garrus.

“That true?” James whispered. Garrus nodded, but stayed silent. He didn't trust himself not to keen if he opened his mouth.

“No fucking way.” James said in disbelief as he frowned and shook his head.

“Garrus, James; I believe that she was seriously injured during the war. High levels of stress would not be-”

“Shut _up!_ ” Garrus shouted at the ceiling, with such ferocity that James took a step back.

“Garrus, I am very so-” Garrus held up a hand and EDI stopped. Why was he angry? She didn't understand. She thought he'd be happy; she thought he'd smile. His biometric readouts were telling her that the opposite was happening.

“Do not let Hackett out of his room until I return to the Normandy.” Garrus said. EDI correctly assumed that Garrus would figure the situation out eventually.

“Of course.” EDI said gently, however she was stressed. If she still had her mobile platform, she could've gone with Garrus and explained to him properly. She could've calmed him, and she could've prepared Shepard. As it was, she had already tried to contact Shepard, but her omni tool was off and she couldn't find her in any of the surveillance footage from the station.

“Come on.” Garrus growled at James as EDI reluctantly allowed the elevator doors to open. Even with all of her control of the Normandy, she knew better than to try and cage a determined turian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a long one, hope you enjoyed it! PS troll EDI is best EDI.


	9. You Weigh Me Down.

Spending every day with Shepard for almost two years had resulted in James not being frightened by much; after all, they had walked into hell every day and made it out (well, James thought he was the only one of the two of them that had made it out, but it seemed Lola really was immortal), but the way Garrus was stalking through the marketplace like he'd devolved into a feral predator? That frightened James just a _little_ bit.

 _Sorry_ , James mouthed to a small quarian who almost tripped as she tried to remove herself from the path of the tall, intimidating turian that almost bowled her over.

“Scars, hey, _hey!_ ” James called after Garrus, but he didn't stop. James broke into a run to keep up with the quick, long steps that Garrus' alien legs were making.

“Garrus!” James tried again as he finally caught up and clasped a hand over Garrus' shoulder.

“ _What?_ ” Garrus snarled as he immediately spun to face James. His normally bright eyes had darkened to resemble the deepest depths of the ocean. It made the fine hairs on the back of James' neck stand up, but he refused to remove his hand from his friend's bony shoulder.

“You need to ca-”

“ _Don't_ tell me to calm down.” Garrus drew the attention of the aliens around them with his unsubtle growl.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-” James pulled back his hand and raised his palms in a statement of truce. Garrus glared at him for a moment, before spinning back around and resuming his mission with a punishing pace.

James shook his head and broke into a run to keep up again. He could see the hurt and confusion that Garrus felt; hell, even he was hurt and confused. Why would Lola not want to see them? Did she hate them for letting her run towards the beam alone? James snorted; like she had given them a choice.

“Where is she?” Garrus boomed at the vorcha that was attending the stall that they had first seen Shepard on the station. The vorcha narrowed his eyes; making him look even more monstrous than his vicious protruding teeth and blood red eyes already did.

“Aria T'Loak would not like your attitude.” The vorcha said, as calmly as his grating voice would allow. Garrus banged his fist down hard on the display counter. Cracks as thin as strands of hair spread out beneath it. The vorcha glanced at Garrus' fist before tilting his chin up defiantly.

“Not. Aria. Shepard.” The vorcha's expression faltered for a moment, and James let out a huff of disbelief. The fucking vorcha knew about Shepard, and the vorcha was fucking _nobody_. The emotional hurt physically manifested in the form of a wave of heat that rolled up James' neck and spread across his cheeks.

“Who is Shepard?” The vorcha tried.

“Tell me, or I'll fucking end you!” Garrus slammed his fist down on the glass again, and this time it broke properly. The marketplace seemed to fall silent around them, and James heard a few shocked gasps. The vorcha took a small step backwards as small shards of glass flew in his direction. James stepped forward to reach for Garrus' arm, but decided against it. Clearly Shepard was here, and he'd stand behind Garrus no matter what road he took to find her. If he had to crack a few skulls on the way? Well, nothing much made James flinch any more.

“I don't know a Shepard.” The vorcha's hand hovered over a small pistol that was holstered at his side. The vorcha quickly glanced to his left, and James followed his gaze. Two batarians and an asari were slowly making their way to the stall with guns pointed towards Garrus. The asari made eye contact with James, and frowned. James held up one hand.

 _Please. We don't have weapons_ , he mouthed (which was technically a lie; he did have two combat knives, but even with his skills, he knew they didn't mean shit against what the aliens were packing). The asari's frown deepened as she turned her head back to look at Garrus. Shit. Everyone knows what's going on, James thought. Aria had probably already been alerted to the situation. James looked back to Garrus, who looked like he was going to leap over the counter and strangle the information out of the vorcha.

“Gentlemen.” A voice purred from their right. James turned. Garrus didn't.

“I assume there's a good reason that you've decided to put your fist through my counter and damage my merchandise.” Aria circled the counter until she was beside the vorcha. She leant forward, and carefully placed her hands on the uncracked edge of the counter. She stared steadily at Garrus. The vorcha sidestepped until he was standing near the security team.

“Tell me what I need to know.” Garrus said in a voice so low that James almost missed it.

“You know what I think? Being on board a human ship for so long has driven you insane. I don't blame you; it'd be hard not to see Shepard everywhere on that thing. Tell me, do you still sleep in her bed, just to torture yourself? I know how much you love to torture yourself. Your little stunt as Archangel on Omega proved that.” Aria's upper lip raised in a cruel sneer. James frowned. Why was she baiting him?

****

The edges around everything began to blur as Garrus' rage increased to volcanic proportions. Aria laughed.

“No, you wouldn't be. Her bed is now the Admiral's bed, isn't it?” She leant closer to Garrus. The glass underneath her hands crunched as cracks spidered out underneath her palms.

“I torture myself no more than you do. I heard you lost your girlfriend when Shepard helped you take back Omega. Shame. Shepard told me you two would've been good together, if you could've gotten over yourself for one second, that is.” Garrus snapped. He'd never been one for nasty jibes, but Aria made him _murderous_. The asari hissed.

“You're on thin ice, Vakarian.” Aria warned. Garrus narrowed his eyes. He wasn't scared of her. He wasn't going to quake in fear before her like some rookie lieutenant at the first sight of a reaper.

“I'm only going to ask one more time. Where is she?” The market had fallen completely silent. In his peripheral vision, Garrus could see the crowd that had gathered to watch what was going to happen between the boss of the station and the mysterious turian who clearly had a death wish.

“Aw.” Aria pouted.

“What are you gonna do? Go cry to your fucking krogan? I bet he tells you everything you want to hear.” Aria said in an infuriatingly patronising tone as her eyes flicked towards James, then back to him. Garrus' talons gripped the edge of the broken glass until the jagged edges cut into his skin.

****

“See? Here, if you look at the pins, you've got the first three sets bent wrong. If you just-” Both Shepard and Tactus looked up from the sniper rifle attachment they had decided to start with as Bray practically fell into the small room.

“... Bray?” Shepard raised her brows in confusion.

“How did you get in here?” Tactus asked.

“Never mind.” Tactus mumbled at the look of urgency on the batarian's face.

“What's going on?” Shepard asked as she gently lowered the attachment back onto the table.

“There's... there's... Garrus and the human lieutenant are in the marketplace.”

“... Oh.” Shepard replied as nonchalantly as possible.

“So is Aria.” Bray added.

“So?” Shepard frowned.

“They're... talking.” Bray stammered.

“... _So?_ ” Shepard said again. Just because she didn't want to have contact with Garrus or James didn't mean that Aria couldn't. It would be in Aria's best interests to maintain a neutral relationship with Garrus at the very least; he was a general on the Normandy, after all, and alliance building didn't necessarily stop just because the war was over.

“Well, by talking, I mean...” Bray winced. Shepard's eyebrows shot up. Aria wouldn't do _that_ , would she?

Bray quickly realised what her train of thought was, and shook his hands in front of him.

“No! Not that, shit. Not... not _that_.” Bray's face softened slightly.

“I don't understand.”

“I think they're going to fight each other.” Bray said, and Shepard snorted.

“Fight each other? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.” Shepard said. Bray stepped further into the room.

“Shepard, I'm serious. I'm... I'm worried about both of them. I'm connected to her comm line. It sounds like they're baiting each other.” Shepard scrunched up her face in confusion.

“Here, just let me show you.” Bray opened his omni tool, and entered his comms app. A few seconds later, and Aria's comm feed was being played to the room.

“... Only going to ask one more time. Where is she?” Shepard's heart felt like it was being clutched by the hand of a banshee as it stilled in her chest.

“Aw. What are you gonna do? Go cry to your fucking krogan? I bet he tells you everything you want to hear.” Fuck. Shepard hated it when Aria used that tone of voice. For a being that was centuries old, she could really act like an arrogant child sometimes.

“ _Shit_.” Shepard hissed as she walked around the table and shoved past Bray.

****

“Don't push me, Aria.” Garrus growled. His subvocals gave an extra menacing depth to his words.

“Oh, I'll push you. I'll push you until you fucking leave this station, and don't ever come back. There's nothing here for you.” Aria said through gritted teeth. Both of their hands were clutching the edge of the broken glass, and drops of purple and blue blood dripped onto the merchandise below. There was a tense moment of silence when the turian and asari stared each other down; both silently daring the other to make the inevitable first move. Garrus bit first.

“Fuck!” Aria growled as she staggered backwards from Garrus' powerful headbutt.

“ _Dios!_ ” James said from somewhere behind Garrus amongst the shouting that had erupted.

“Vakarian!” Aria growled. She held up a hand to the security team that had moved closer and aimed their guns at Garrus to get them to step back, then surged forward. She leapt over the counter, and brought up a fist that surged with biotic power. She tackled Garrus to the ground, and the two aliens rolled; full asari figure against wiry turian as he desperately tried to avoid her biotic punches. Garrus managed to wrap his thighs around Aria's waist during a roll, and he reversed their positions so he was pinning her to the ground with his body whilst his hands pinned her arms above her head. It was a move that Shepard had taught him when they sparred; a pinned down biotic couldn't stop the panic of being unable to focus their energy on a target, no matter how skilled they were, especially if they weren't expecting to not have the upper hand. Judging by Aria's wide eyes, Shepard was right. _As usual_.

“I know she's here!” He shouted just as Aria brought up a biotic field that flung Garrus off her and slammed him back into the counter. What little intact glass there was shattered, and tiny jagged pieces of it showered Garrus. He looked around at the crowd that seemed to slowly be retreating further and further away from the fight, dazed for only a moment, before he leapt to his feet and charged at Aria again. She sidestepped him, and held out her leg to catch against his. He grabbed her upper arms and slammed her to the ground again instead; almost two decades of intense hand to hand combat training letting him successfully guess her next move. She fell to the ground with a thud and a sickening crunch. Garrus stepped back to circle her; the crowd around them blending into inconsequential blurs as his rage gave him tunnel vision. He watched as Aria rose slowly; an unsettling grin pulling at her lips. Tiny shards of glass fell from her clothing as she straightened. Garrus was vaguely aware of a dull pain in the back of his neck, but he ignored it. Whatever glass was in there could be dislodged later. Later, when he had found what he was looking for.

“You're forgetting something, Vakarian.” Aria said. Garrus responded with only a glare in determination not to waste his breath.

“I'm not going to go gentle on you like I'm sure Shepard did when you two sparred. You know she could've snapped your neck before you even had time to beg for your life, don't you? I bet she thinks you're weak. Maybe that's why she wants nothing to do with you anymore.” Aria spat, and Garrus' world stopped completely at the confirmation that his Shepard was still alive.

****

Shepard watched through the market's viewing window in complete horror. Aria and Garrus were scrapping roughly, and most of the spectators had fled once glass started flying. James was circling them with a large combat knife in his hand, trying to find an opening that would allow him to safely subdue Aria.

“Maybe that's why she wants nothing to do with you anymore.” What little colour was left in Shepard's face disappeared entirely.

“What the fuck is she trying to do?” Shepard asked no one in particular in a shaky voice. Bray shook his head to her left, and Tactus stood completely still to her right. She gasped as Aria managed to land a powerful punch to the scarred side of Garrus' face. Why had Aria baited him? How could she do that to Shepard? She could have kept up the denial and ordered Garrus away from the fuel station and everything could have gone on just as it was before. Fresh rage mixed with confusion, causing her biotics to flare in a threatening aura around her. Both Bray and Tactus quickly distanced themselves from her.

“Shepard?” Bray asked. Shepard's biotics had been nothing but unstable since she had recovered from the war. Numerous amp changes and CT scans had not produced any insight as to why.

“Surely you're not going down there?” Tactus called after Shepard as she ran from the room, but with the raw power causing her eardrums to throb, she wouldn't have replied even if she had heard him. She had to fix this, and fix it quick before one of them killed the other.

****

Garrus groaned as Aria threw him against a neighbouring stall's support beams. He leant forward to get up, but a biotic field encased him and pinned his back against the beam.

“You need to stay down.” Aria growled as she stood over him; her menacing expression made truly murderous by the glow of her biotics. Garrus looked up at her defiantly, and Aria raised her hand. Garrus rose to his feet under her will. Aria closed her left eye as blood from a cut on her forehead trickled down to her cheek. She studied him with one eye for a moment, before glancing over her shoulder.

“If you're going to kill me, just get it over with.” Garrus said breathlessly. The force of Aria's biotics made it feel like a krogan was sitting on his chest, and it was becoming increasingly harder to breathe. Aria's head snapped back to glare at him.

“Any. Second. Now.” Aria growled, and Garrus closed his eyes in preparation for his death. He'd never thought about dying much until Shepard was no longer around. Then, he'd imagined it every day. He'd hoped for it, and revelled in the sick idea that when he died, he would finally be free. Free of the constant memories of her and free of the sinking feeling when he remembered Aria's words. _Maybe that's why she wants nothing to do with you any more._.

Aria's barrier eased up slightly, but Garrus didn't allow himself to feel relieved. Even with multiple broken bones and lacerations, Aria still had the upper hand over him, which was made obvious by the way his lungs were quickly running out of air.

“Aria, don't!” Shepard screamed, and Garrus made a sound of displeasure in his throat. Could he not even be free of Shepard in the throes of death? He didn't want the last thing he saw to be a hallucination of her. Spirits, he'd rather see anything but _that_.

“Finally.” Aria sighed, and Garrus fell to the ground in a crumpled, injured heap. He coughed violently as he writhed on the cool metal floor.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Shepard shouted again. Her voice was clearer to him this time. Had he passed over already? Aria was stronger than he thought.

“I thought you'd come sooner.” Aria replied nonchalantly. Garrus slowly opened his eyes. Vibrant green eyes locked onto his, before Shepard turned to face Aria. She raised both of her palms, and sent both he and Aria into the already ruined display case with a swift flick of her wrist. They fell side by side; both gasping for breath at the same time as trying to scramble away from each other. Garrus dared another glance at Shepard, who looked as furious as she did the day the quarian Admiral fired on the dreadnought whilst they were still on board. Her scowl softened slightly as she made eye contact with him, but there was not an ounce of warmth in her expression.

“Take them to the clinic.” Shepard ordered. Garrus tried to protest, but his head was spinning and he couldn't make his jaw move. Aria spat out a glob of blood beside him before a blurry figure lifted her to her feet.

“I can fucking walk on my own.” She spat. The figure moved to him, and he weakly swatted them away. He opened his mouth to berate the person (batarian?), but only a pained groan came out.

“Don't be an idiot, Vakarian. Let Bray help you.” Aria scolded. Garrus was pulled up onto unsteady legs, and his eyes found Shepard's again. He parted his mouth to speak, but the dizziness took over and darkness blanketed his vision completely. He blinked his eyes rapidly, but it did nothing to restore his sight. He couldn't stop the small keening noise that escaped his mouth. His head was pounding.

“Shepard, you-” Aria's voice, then a thud. A punch? Then a body falling into his legs, causing him to lose his balance and bring down the batarian that was holding him. He fell onto a soft body, and was roughly shoved off after a few shouts of harsh expletives. He'd fallen onto Aria.

“ _Shit_ , Shepard! Did you have to - Tactus... I'm gonna need a hand with these two.” Was all Garrus heard before unconsciousness took him completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's part one done! Stay tuned for part two, where Aria's baiting is explained and Garrus confronts Shepard. Thank you for reading!


End file.
